When Heaven Falls
by Bane of All the World
Summary: One year has passed since the League and Titans clashed, and all seems peaceful. But nothing can last forever. False gods die, idols crumble, heroes will fall, and demons break the chains of their damnation as good and evil clash in their fiercest struggle yet. In the face of a plot to bring all creation under one banner, can even love survive? Robin x Raven. Sequal to DHaSL.


This is my sequel to Dark History and Shadowy love, the second book in the _Of Bats and Birds_ trilogy. Sorry it took so long to come out people.

And as usual I obviously do not own any of these chaacters because this is a fanfiction website (…duh).

 _11 monthes and two weeks ago_

The Green Lantern Core had been tasked with protecting all of what was somewhat improperly referred to as 'known space' for longer than most current planets had existed. In that time there has been many threats to the peace they were self-charged to protect but few that could rival the legendary Core. Those few challengers, most lost to the dust of the ages, were now stories used to impart the importance of a Lantern's mission to new recruits. But, hidden away in the most remote corners of Lantern space, a few, aging relics of these former evils lingered, ever-guarded by a dutiful, if extremely bored, Lantern. The cramped, almost spherical room, tucked away on a planet so small that is was dwarfed by Earth's moon, held one such relic.

Metallic footsteps echoed dully in the enclosed bubble. The room, lit by the soft emerald light of free will only two minutes prior, now contained two sources of light: a crackling, purple fire hovering near the entrance, and a throbbing, red burn in the center. The harsh mixture made the tall figure appeared to be a wraith of smoldering bruises, glinting slightly as he approached the pedestal in the center of the room.

"Uhg, these menial tasks do not befit the rightful queen of Tamaran," Blackfire sneered from the doorway.

"Keep complaining, and I will relieve you of ever performing such menial tasks again," warned a broad-shouldered shape next to her. His purple skin glistened darkly, rendering him nearly invisible in the purple light of Blackfire's starbolts. As he spoke his skin began to pulse emerald, the same shade of emerald as the uniforms of the two withered husks that had once been Green Lanterns beneath him.

"Parasite is right, little girl," spoke the figure approaching the pedestal, his metal form slowly illuminated by its angry glow. "You're witness to the unleashing of one of the most powerful weapons ever created." He struck the clear dome covering the pedestal with his forearm, and a small, red ring rose into the air. The ring's light intensified like a bed of stroked coals before rocketing out the door, leaving a sonic boom in its wake. Blackfire and Parasite were thrown to the floor with muted cries, but the metal man merely rocked softly on his heels.

"Now what," Blackfire grumbled. The metal man turned to face her, and his fleshless teeth rose slightly in his approximation of a smile.

"Now we wait." Metallo's laugh resonated like the striking of a steel pipe as the red ring streaked across the cosmos at the speed of light, seeking its master.

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 _5 monthes and six days ago_

Hooves dented the hard earth as he ran, tongue lolling through the short, sharp grunts that escaped flat, clenched teeth. Lungs struggled to propel four hundred pounds of tired animal. Wildebeast's mane rippled in his wake, steel-toed boots almost unnaturally heavy on sore hooves. Still he ran, long muzzle down against the gritty wind, horns gleaming in the evening light. Ultimately, those horns that let him win so many battles and batter down hundreds of criminals cost him his life. His assassin could see the horns through the dust storm that had been the young hero's last chance. The sand slipping through his hockey mask didn't faze the practiced killer, and his discus curved beautifully through the air, imbedding half its diameter in the young vigilantee's chest. Wildebeast cantered to a stop, hooves unsure as he groped at the wound in his armor. He turned in one final desperate attempt to face his attacker.

"You're tough, kid," Sportsmaster admitted, extending his javelin. "I'll remember that." The javelin streaked forward, its point filling Wildebeast's eyes in his last moment.

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 _11 monthes and three weeks ago_

"What do you mean you're done?" Oswald Cobblepot exclaimed, heaving his unfortunate bowling-pin shaped body from his chair.

"I mean I won't work for you anymore," The man standing across the desk told him. He wore a tight, full-bodied black kevlar suit reinforced with thick gray plates over his arms, shoulders, vitals, legs, and neck. "The Batman has prevented me from killing scum like you for years. I'll kill him to free up my time in Gotham, but I will not work under a man who consorts with the Joker!"

"Mister Black Spider, please," Penguin tried to soothe his guest.

"No, mister Cobblepot, I will not assist you anymore." Black spider threw a sack onto the desk. "There's the money you paid me. Unlike you and the company you keep, I have some honor." Black Spider donned his mask, replacing his tastfully trimmed goatee with the featureless fabric and orange goggles. "I will not kill you, this time, but I won't spare you again." Penguin's indulgent smile slipped, and a very grim man leaned back into his chair.

"Then I must warn you, Eric Needham, that you will not be safe in my territory. My men will hunt you down like an animal."

"Good," Black Spider said over his shoulder as he walked out of Penguin's office and through the Iceberg Lounge. "Saves me the trouble of hunting them down myself."

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 _Yesterday_

"How do your lessons proceed, Brother Blood?" The headmaster of the H.I.V.E. Academy smiled, the expression gruesome with his red cybertronic implants and grey horns. His full-body white robe bore his signature yellow skull in a black triangle at the collar. He stepped to the side, sweeping a long, dramatic arm out behind him. The sleeve of his robe slipped back, revealing a red, metal hand with long grey talons for fingers.

"See for yourslef, Mister Savage." Brother Blood's students were hard at work in the hexagonal arena, fighting furiously against robots, turrets, and each other. "Many of the more troubled youths you brought in required brief solo sessions, but once my fabulous mind got ahold of theirs," Blood rubbed his metal skull affectionately, "they proved to be little problem. A much better use for our cause than they were as street urchins, if I may say so."

"Indeed." Savage rumbled. Most of the youths in the arena below wore the standard H.I.V.E. soldier uniform: bee-head helmet and gray and yellow body armor. Two boys stood to the side and shouted instructions at the rest. "I see your old students make diligent teachers."

"Move, you crud-munching buttheads!" Yelled a small boy in a green jumpsuit, his body held more than ten feet above the ground by four mechanical spider legs extending from a metal backback.

"This isn't kindergarten, hit him hard or I'll knock you both through the wall," bellowed a young man with shagy sideburns hanging past the miniscule tusks that jutted up from his lower jaw. He stood slightly taller than Gizmo did on his spider legs, but this man was all muscle and bone. His body, more than twice as brood as that of a grown man, was covered in sleevless full body black armor with yellow studded trim.

"Yes, Mammoth and Gizmo were eager to help fight the Titans and even easier to control." Brother Blood said, his voice nearly ringing in pride.

"And the girl?" Savage's tone shifted almost imperceptibly, but Brother Blood tensed, smile suddenly strained.

"Her, her father prepared her well. I was unable to take control of her mind, and she left in quite a rage when she found me out." Blood avoided looking at a scratch in his robotic arm with great difficulty.

"Mmm, I see Luthor was wrong about your lack of honesty," Vandal rumbled, broad face softening from steel to marble, thin lips twisting into a small smile. "You have done well, Blood. Soon, your H.I.V.E. will have the opportunity to prove your worth to our new order." Brother Blood bowed deeply.

"My students do not fail," he promised, hiding his grin. Soon, his students would cull the only exception to that rule, and Brother Blood would finally have his vengeance.

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 _Three weeks ago_

Trickster cackled as he skipped down the Central City back alley. He had stolen nearly six hundred dollars that night, and played twenty-six pranks. No one had died, but most of them had been badly injured. Maybe that's why they didn't find his tricks funny, although he wasn't one-hundred percent sure why that would be. He was thinking about that, and whether or not whoopie cushions were out of style, when a voice accosted him from the street.

"So you're this backwater's resident clown?" Trickster turned, green and purple hair catching the light. He grinned, pleased with the newcomer's fashion choice. "I must say, you're not terrible." A ghostly face, paler than a corpse, graced with vibrant blood-colored lips and mossy yellow teeth stretched in smile for the record books loomed out from a trench coat and fedora. Beneath the mundane brown clothes he wore a green and purple suit surmounted with a neon yellow flower. "You know, I think I have a joke that's right up your alley."

"Well let's hear it!" Trickster beamed, gripping his acid spraying snot gun behind his back. The stranger drew a gun from his coat and pulled the trigger. Trickster giggled at the little stick and _Bang!_ flag. The newcomer's smile thinned, and with a puff of smoke the bang stick shot from the gun, imbedding itself in the Trickster's heart.

"An old classic for a raw hack," Joker muttered, stowing his gun in his coat and retrieving the bang stick. He scowled down at the corpse, mouth frozen in a comical O of surprise. "I can't stand it when someone tries to swoop in and steal your act, but I do love when work and pleasure coincide." Joker left the alley hidden in the folds of his coat, chuckling at his little joke. A bead of sweat worked its way from the Trickster's cheek, where it had beaded in his final moments, and slid, every so slowly, to pool in the corner of his eye, where it stayed until morning when the police came to investigate the first member of the Rogues to die since their founding.

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 _Two weeks ago_

Flash stumbled back over a piece of asphalt, clutching his head. His suit tore against the jagged edge, red blood camouflaged against red fabric. Flash forced burning eyes to look up and focus on the flat face, inhuman canines bared in a smug grin.

"Well, human, I suppose your luck finally ran out," Gorilla Grodd crowed, hands on either side on the gold helmet on top of his head. Waves of psychic energy flowed from his mind, magnified and re-mitted through the red circle in the center of his forehead. Barry Allen heard Grodd's voice as if through syrup. His mind was scrambling for a purchase, some thought to claim as his own through the slippery, painful haze that was Grodd's mind. The gorilla had long since given up on controlling him. This was Grodd's way of savoring the kill. "Any last words from the fastest man al–"

Flash's mind instantly cleared, allowing him to draw on the Speed Force and experience time as he knew it. As Flash began to vibrate at familiar speeds, he noticed a bullet materialize beneath his left eye, surprised, Flash didn't prevent it from bouncing off of the lighting bolt on his head with a carnivall bell ding. _Thump_. Flash started as Gorilla Grodd, his most terrible opponent, toppled backward. Flash circled around to the great ape's head, face set in a hard frown. He didn't need to be a forsenics expert to see the giant bullet hole through Grodd's head. But in all his year's on the CCPD, Barry Allen had never seen an angle quite like that. An angle that, looking at the low buildings surrounding the park he stood in, seemed impossible. Except that someone had done it.

Nearly two thousand yards away, Floyd Lawton lowered his rifle from the red scope fixed over his right eye. He lowered himself down the back of the building, jumping from landing to landing on the rickety staircase. Waiting in the alley below was a man in a green suit with a bowler hat and purple tie. His staff was topped with a question mark, and more question marks dotted his suit and tie.

"I take it our plan was successful?" the Riddler querried. Lawton grinned and snorted.

"I'm called Deadshot for a reason," he reminded Edward Nygma. "Waller's target and Gorilla Grodd in one shot." Nygma rubbed the black X in the back of his neck.

"One less megalomaniac in our way, and one step closer to quitting the Suicide Squad for good." Deadshot grinned, rubbing the X on his neck.

"Just a few more weeks, Nygma. And once this is all over, I'm buying you a drink." Nygma smiled, and the unlikely friends made their way to an abandoned building to wait for their extraction and, ultimately, their freedom.

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 _Last night_

The assassin ran as fast as his legs could take him – fast enough that the few people out and about the streets that night barely glimpsed him. He charged down an alley, scarcely slowing his flight to push off a wall and clear a fence. He turned a corner at the last second and ran into an old parking lot that had been converted into a dumping ground in the middle of the city's slums. He rushed into the middle of the dump, where an open space nearly thirty feet in diameter stood.

"Face me, guardian," he roared to the night, turning to glare around the clearing, fists tightened over the short, broad hand-claws protruding over his knuckles. "And die at the claws of BRONZE TIGER!" Lady Shiva's chosen lieutenant, the most brutal assassin in the League of Shadows, had chosen this spot so that his adversary could not sneak up on him. He turned in all directions, eyes constantly searching for his pursuer, knowing he could not give up the chase and must step into the open to engage him. Bronze Tiger felt the darkness deepen around him. Too late, he realized no cloud had a shape so clearly defined.

Bronze Tiger turned up to see a spiked shadow dive toward him. The assassin twisted aside, side of the steel-toed boot scraping his face almost in the same moment an elbow crashed heavily into his shoulder, knocking him down and slowing his adversary's descent. Bronze Tiger barely stumbled away from a back kick and slashed, claws slashing through a waving cape. He held his claws before him, all his attention trained on the man before him.

Bronze Tiger held his fists up, serrated claws glinting wickedly in the dingy light. His orange and black striped sleeveless shirt shimmered under his brown jacket, muscles stretching the fabric. His assailant was so calm that he could have passed for dead. Only someone who had spent their life hunting men and watching their eyes in the last moment of life would see the fire that slowly consumed the assassin's vision, fire so intense that his skin shivered across his skeleton, so personal that Bronze Tiger almost believed that his latest kill had been the man's wife.

"There's only two ways this will end for you," Bronze Tiger growled. "The hospital or the morgue." The shadowy warrior did not move save to narrow those damn eyes. Not one to waste time, Bronze Tiger bounded forward, claws poised to slash up through his intestines. At the last moment, he turned one hand down and the other up and across in a deadly arc. His enemy leaned back and to the right very slightly, catching the bloodied claws that nearly flayed his face on the edge of an armored gauntlet. Bronze Tiger felt the jolt pass through his arm as it locked in place before his limb was forced back toward his chest, the dark body using his arm as a lever to propel itself at him. He twisted, bringing the other claws around, and felt the steel tear Kevlar. He dropped down and rolled to his feet.

Bronze Tiger prepared to charge again when he noticed the breeze across his right knuckle. The dark guardian raised his other set of claws in its fist. The assassin ground his teeth, drew a knife, and charged again. The warrior tried to twist away, but Bronze Tiger caught him in the side with his hand claws and slashed through his breastplate with the knife. He gasped as his attacker drove a blade down his thigh from hip to knee. A gauntlet struck the knife from his hand, and a blade caught his hand claws in a deadly stand still. After a brief but vicious struggle each fighter managed to drive their blade's point into their opponent's knuckles.

Bronze Tiger felt blood flow from his hand and made the mistake of glaring into his aggressor's eyes. That heartbeat of distraction was enough time for a devasting blow to crash into his chest just under the ribs. Bronze Tiger gasped as bone pierced his lung. To his credit he did not scream when the second blow forced his lower jaw up into his upper jaw. Chips of tooth mixed with blood, turning his saliva into a thick, choking paste. He struck out with a punch of his own, hitting the side of his enemy's head. Even as his head fell back an armored foot smashed into his ribs, and Bronze Tiger fell with a strnagled cry. A blow to his injured shoulder brought him to one knee. The assassin looked up in time to see land and sky turn on each other as he was bodily thrown against a pile of garbage. Something whacked against his head, and his vision darkened. Stuggling to remain concsious, Bronze Tiger turned himself over only to be seized by the collar and pulled to within inches of those terrible white eyes.

"Ben Turner," Batman growled his real name, at once soft and rough. "Why did you kill Lynx?" Bronze Tiger bared his chipped teeth in a sneer.

"What do you care for killers?" Batman narrowed his eyes to slits and rose to his full height, dragging his latest victim up with him.

"What is Ra's planning?" He demanded. Ben Turner scowled.

"I will take my master's secrets to the grave." He swore. The white slits in Batman's cowl narrowed so thin they could hardly be seen. Bronze Tiger gasped at the sudden blow to his ribs, stunning him. Batman turned him on his back and lifted the injured man over his head.

"I believe you."

Bronze Tiger had a split second to scoff. He wouldn't dare. His code did not permit him to maim. Before the thought could be finished Batman smashed his body down, bringing up his knee to meet the base of Bronze Tiger's spine. It was then that the assassin lost control and screamed, writhing on the ground. He glared through shameful tears at the pillar of cold fury that stood over him. It took Bronze Tiger a few seconds to realize that he could still feel the wound in his leg. Meaning…

Of course he would. He's the goddamn Batman.

"You'll walk. Eventually." Batman informed him. "But you won't be escaping Arkham any time soon." Bronze Tiger stared at Batman, spite shining in his eyes.

"My master…will come for me…bastard," he spat, hate bubbling from his throat. Batman stood tall, cape settling over him, turning him into a featureless black figure.

"You don't get it, minnow." White predatory eyes loomed over him in the night. "I'm fishing for the whale."

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 _This morning_

A young man stood at the edge of the roof of a giant T-shaped tower. The rim only came up to just above his knees. He faced east, looking out over Jump City as the sun rose, pink and gold light trickling up his face, brightening his red, yellow, and green uniform. His cape flapped absently at his feet like a dog waiting for kitchen scraps. Below his menacing bristle of spiked black hair and domino mask, soft, content smile played on his lips.

"You really are a morning person." Robin turned to look at the blue-cloaked girl behind him, hood pulled down to partially cover her face. She walked to stand next to him, her expression controlled, unperturbed. The silence between them was comfortable. Robin glanced at the half-demon next to him, appreciating how the sunrise glinting off the city reflected in the corner of her amethyst eyes. She caught him looking and turned, raising a eyebrow.

"It's just…" he turned back to the city before them. "It's so peaceful. And it's been relatively peaceful for so long. Everything just feels really good right now, you know."

"I think I do." Raven treated him to a soft smile. They both looked out over the city, content in the quiet and closeness. "We finally have something permanent." Robin's smile grew just smidge.

"Peace in our time."

I am also working on two other stories, so I will try to post a chapter from each story simultaneously. Please review!


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